14. Chapter 14 - Dahlia
I stare at the microscope, adjusting the focus slightly as I examine Mara's blood sample.
The virus particles move erratically, attaching to her shifter cells in a way that's both fascinating and horrifying.
Behind me, Onyx paces like a caged animal.
After I gave the ultimatum, the four of them have been acting like good puppies.
"Anything?" he asks for the fifth time in twenty minutes.
I straighten up, rubbing my neck. "The virus is attacking the cellular structure that controls her transformations. It's breaking down the barriers between human and animal DNA."
Onyx leans against the lab table, his massive frame making the sturdy furniture seem fragile. "Can you fix it?"
"I'm trying." I pull up the digital scans on my tablet. "Look at this. The virus isn't just random. The sequencing is too perfect."
He peers at the screen, his brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"
"It means this wasn't some natural mutation." I swipe through several images. "Someone designed this. Someone created this virus specifically to target transformation cells."
"You're sure?" His voice drops dangerously low.
"One hundred percent." I point to a particular sequence. "The pattern is synthetic. Nature doesn't create viruses with this kind of precision."
Onyx's hand curls into a fist. "Who would do this?"
"Someone who understands shifter DNA better than most shifters do, or someone who had access to some help from a shifter." I rub my eyes, exhausted after hours of non-stop work. "The question is why? What's the endgame?"
Before Onyx can respond, the lab door slides open.
"You need to come upstairs," Leo says. "Now."
"What's happened?" I ask, already pulling off my latex gloves.
"Just come."
Something in his tone makes my stomach clench. Onyx and I follow him upstairs to the main living area, where Evan and Axl are standing in front of the large television mounted on the wall. They both turn as we enter, their faces mirroring Leo's grim expression.
On the screen, a stern-faced man in a military uniform stands at a podium. The chyron identifies him as General Hammond.
"...urge all citizens to remain vigilant," he's saying. "If you spot an infected shifter, do not approach. Contact authorities immediately using the emergency hotline we've established."
"What the fuck is this?" I whisper, moving closer to the screen.
Hammond continues, "The Crimson Plague represents a clear and present danger to public safety. Infected shifters lose control of their transformations, becoming violent and unpredictable."
"That's bullshit," Onyx growls.
"Despite our best efforts," Hammond says, "our research indicates there is no cure for this virus. Therefore, containment is our only option."
My blood runs cold. "Containment?"
"All shifters must be quarantined immediately. Additionally, those who have had direct contact with infected individuals must also be tested and isolated."
"They're going to round us up," Leo says quietly.
Hammond's face hardens. "Let me be clear: if shifters wish to continue living peacefully within human society, cooperation is mandatory. Those who resist will be considered threats and dealt with accordingly."
"Dealt with?" Axl repeats, his usual playfulness gone. "Does he mean killed?"
"The safety of our citizens is paramount," Hammond concludes. "We will not allow this plague to spread further. Thank you."
The press conference ends, cutting to a panel of commentators already debating the announcement. Evan mutes the television.
"They're going to slaughter us," Onyx says, his voice deadly calm.
"They can't do this. They can't just decide to 'put down' infected shifters like they're rabid animals." I feel sick even as the words leave my mouth.
"They can and they will," Evan replies, his jaw tight. "The public is already terrified of shifters. This just gives them permission to act on that fear."
"But that's fucking genocide! … They're talking about mass murder." Onyx argues.
Leo crosses his arms. "Hammond's been pushing anti-shifter legislation for years. The Crimson Plague is just his excuse to do what he's always wanted finally."
"Hang on," Axl interrupts, looking confused. "I've heard about this virus, but I never really paid attention. What exactly does it do?"
"It destroys a shifter's ability to control their transformations," Leo explains. "You start shifting randomly, painfully. Parts of your body transform while others remain human. Eventually, your organs fail from stress."
"And it's contagious?" Axl asks.
Onyx nods. "Yes… through blood, saliva, and sex. Any fluid exchange can spread it."
"That's why they're so scared," I add. "One infected shifter could potentially spread it to dozens before showing symptoms."
"But they're lying about there being no cure," Axl says, looking at me. "That's what you're working on, right?"
"I'm trying," I admit. "But it's complicated. The virus is unlike anything I've seen before."
Evan turns to me. "How close are you? Really?"
I hesitate, not wanting to crush their hope, but unwilling to lie. "I've identified some compounds that slow the progression, but nothing that reverses the damage. There's something missing… some piece of the puzzle I can't see."
"What do you need?" Evan presses.
I laugh bitterly. "A miracle? More time? Honestly, what I really need is the original documentation from the person who created this virus. Their research notes, their formulas, their intentions. Without that, I'm just stabbing in the dark."
"You're sure it was created?" Axl asks.
"Without a doubt," I say firmly. "This virus was engineered specifically to target shifters. Someone designed it, tested it, and then released it."
"But who would do that?" Axl looks genuinely confused. "And why?"
"Someone who hates shifters," Leo suggests.
"Or someone who wants to control them," Onyx counters.
"And weaponize them," Evan says quietly.
We all turn to look at him.
"What do you know?" I ask, studying his face.
Evan remains expressionless for a moment, then walks to the bar and pours himself a drink. The clink of ice against glass is unnervingly loud in the tense silence.
"Evan," I press. "If you know something, now is the time to share."
He takes a long swallow of his drink, then sets the glass down with deliberate care. "I have it."
My heart skips a beat. "Have what?"
"The original documentation." He meets my gaze steadily. "All of it. The creation of the virus, the testing protocols, everything."
The room goes completely still.
"You what?" Onyx's voice is dangerously soft.
"How?" I demand, stepping toward him. "How do you have those documents?"
Evan's expression remains carefully neutral. "That's not important right now."
"The hell it isn't!" I slam my palm against the bar top. "People are dying, Evan! Mara is dying! And you've had the information that could help me find a cure this entire time?"
"It's complicated," he says.
"Fucking uncomplicate it," Leo growls.
Evan's eyes flash. "You don't get to make demands, Detective."
"I think we all do," Axl interjects, moving to stand beside me. "Especially since you've apparently been holding out."
Onyx takes a step forward. "Give her the documents. Now."
"Or what?" Evan challenges, not backing down. "You'll beat them out of me? Good luck with that."
"Stop it," I snap, stepping between them. "Fighting won't solve anything."
I turn to Evan. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? Do you understand what this means? How many lives could have been saved if you'd shared this information from the beginning?"
Something flickers across his face, regret, perhaps, or shame. It's gone so quickly, I might have imagined it.
"I had my reasons," he says.
"They better be fucking good ones," Onyx snarls.
Evan ignores him, focusing solely on me. "I'll give you everything. But first, we need to talk. Privately."
"No way," Axl says immediately. "Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of all of us."
"This isn't up for debate," Evan replies coldly.
"Like hell it isn't," Leo steps forward. "You don't get to make the rules anymore, Blackthorn."
I raise my hand, silencing them. "I'll talk to him."
"Dahlia," Onyx warns.
"It's fine," I assure him, though I'm not entirely convinced myself. "If this gets us the information we need, it's worth it."
Evan gestures toward his office down the hall. "After you."
I feel the heated gazes of all four men on my back. As I walk towards his office. As soon as we enter his office, Evan closes the door and locks it.
"That was unnecessary," I say, nodding toward the lock.
"Was it?" He moves to his desk, unlocking a drawer with a key from his pocket. "Those three would break down the door at the first raised voice."
"Can you blame them? You just admitted to withholding crucial information that could save countless lives."
He pulls out a thick file folder and places it on the desk between us. "It's not that simple."
"Then explain it to me," I demand, eyeing the folder but not touching it yet. "Make me understand why you would keep this from me… I got a text that someone was lying to me. I can't believe that was you."
Evan sighs, running a hand through his hair. For the first time since I've known him, he looks uncertain.